Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Jamaica and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Scrapy to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Amon Düül II,
Spoonie Gee,
The Golliwogs,
The Vogues,
London Community Gospel Choir,
OOIOO,
Animal Collective,
Motorama,
the Sonics,
Janne Schatter,
Aural Exciters,
Terrestrial Tones,
Iggy Pop,
Yusef Lateef,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Don Cherry,
Ice-T,
Joey Negro,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
One Last Wish,
The New Christs,
The Zeros,
ABBA,
Metal Thangz,
The Young Rascals,
Yaz,
Talk Talk,
Camberwell Now,
DJ Style,
Jerry's Kids,
Colin Newman,
Essential Logic,
Flash Fearless,
Royal Trux,
UT,
Erykah Badu,
The Neon Judgement,
EPMD,
Gong,
Connie Case,
Robert Wyatt,
David Axelrod,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Human League,
Siglo XX,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Count Five,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eve St. Jones,
John Foxx,
Stiv Bators,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Selecter,
Buzzcocks,
Avey Tare,
The Fortunes,
These Immortal Souls,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.